


Pull of My Hips

by JamtheDingus



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Christmas, Comfort No Hurt, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dorks in Love, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Shiro is Pretty, Slight Seduction, Spoiled Shiro (Voltron), Trains, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 15:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17144594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamtheDingus/pseuds/JamtheDingus
Summary: Hunk pulls away only to capture Shiro’s hand fully, pressing his fingers in the spaces between. “We should ride trains more often.”Shiro snorts, quickly hiding it as a cough as the waiter comes back with his champagne. He lifts the flute in thanks as they leave, and quickly takes a sip as Hunk stares at him with a dopey smile.“What happened to being nervous?”“You calmed me down. Maybe too much.” Hunk says, haughty like a spoiled cat. “You only have yourself to blame.”---A brief look at Shiro and Hunk on a train.





	Pull of My Hips

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/gifts).



> merry birthmas boss!!! i went a little heavy with the shiro schmoop
> 
> i also went a little between sugar sweet and Spicy-spice >:3c

Snowfall pitter-patters against the roofing. At first it sets a different rhythm to offset the sound of the train zooming along the tracks, but it’s all but disappeared as the first layer clings to the metal and adheres itself as ice. Shiro imagines that if they were anthropomorphic, each flake would be hooked to another like a chain of monkeys, sticking close lest one get left behind.

That, for some reason, makes him sad, and Shiro hesitantly reaches over to Hunk.

Hunk, who is shivering like a wet kitten in the middle of a frozen lake. He’s pointedly looking away from the windows, tapping his toes against the bunk of their shared bed. He completely misses Shiro’s palm passing by him, and only reacts when Shiro has wound their fingers together tight and kissed the back of his hand.

“Still nervous?”

“Probably will be until we get there.” Hunk says, weakly. “I can’t help thinking about what would happen if— if the brakes stopped working, or the track was broken ahead, or… I dunno. We tipped over because we packed too much luggage. I knew I shouldn’t have packed extra socks.”

Shiro calms minutely at Hunk’s worrying, as messed up as that sounds. He’s shut his eyes as he rambles on, and that only accents how pretty he looks in such a homey backdrop as this. The little room they’d been given was mostly a bed and a table, with a portion of the room squared off for a private toilet. The curtains had been switched out, Shiro can only assume, because they’re decorated in gingham plaid of the green and red variety, and embroidered with snowflakes and gingerbread men.

It’s a small detail that Hunk himself probably would have decorated their home with, if they’d decided to stay there for the holidays. Instead, they were traipsing across the country on what Hunk was currently dubbing ‘Hell’s bullet’ to celebrate with the rest of the team.

It wasn’t only a yearly event, of course. They all met up whenever they had holidays off, or vacation time saved. Those times, though, Hunk and Shiro traveled by plane. It was Hunk himself that mentioned train travel, for this current trip. They both were craving ‘new’, because planes get old around the fourth time you’ve been in one, and Shiro gladly jumped on the chance when they found two tickets for relatively cheap.

In the excitement, they both forgot how nervous Hunk’s constitution was.

“I can talk to the conductor.” Shiro says, completely serious. “See if they can make a stop to drop us off.”

“Wouldn’t that ruin the schedule?”

“Worth it.” Shiro waves his hand around dismissively. “Especially for Earth’s saviors, and all.”

Hunk snorts at that, and a smile works itself against his lips. It’s faintly nauseous, yes, but a smile nonetheless. “I’ll be okay. I just… need a minute to get settled, is all. Maybe see if I can look up the safety protocols.”

“Want me to find you a manual?”

“Shiro.” Hunk says— laughs, like he does when Shiro goes cross-eyed when they kiss in the mornings. “You go and explore, or something.”

Exploring would be fun. It was the first time on a train for them both, and Shiro would be lying if his legs weren’t itching to stretch and see what the fuss was about. Still, though, he had priorities. “And leave you alone?”

Hunk flops against the bed. It’s a stiff thing, but the sheets and blanket feel nice against the skin. Shiro lays flat to join him, turning onto his side to trace his fingers up Hunk’s wrist, past the shoved-up cuff of his jacket, and up to his shoulder.

“I’ll be okay.” Hunk says, relaxing at the touch. He sinks into the bedspread, especially when Shiro tugs over a pillow for him to cuddle into. “Bring me back some hot chocolate?”

Which would not only give Shiro something to do, but give him time to calm his own nerves and see if he really wants them to abandon ship. Heaven knows they had the power to do so— thus was the power of stardom.

“Extra whipped cream and big marshmallows, yeah?”

“Mm, _please_.”

They kiss, Hunk embarrassedly shying away. He’d thrown up earlier, and though he’d brushed his teeth since then, he was always so worried about how his breath smelled. Shiro could honestly say that he’d tasted worse in his lifetime, but that would probably lead nowhere pleasant for either of them.

So he leaves it with a peck on the lips, and a longer smooch on the cheek before he pushes himself standing and leaves to find something fun to poke around in. He likes to think his new, nosy nature is from his husband, but it’s probably from the freedom that came with being both one Captain of the Atlas and free of his life-shortening curse. He tries not to think of that last thing often, now that it’s a non-factor.

But— yes. Hot chocolate and snooping.

Shiro squeezes himself down the thin hall, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. The cars were heated as much as they could be without getting stuffy, but he was still chilled at the core, and keeping his hands squeezed in fists helped until his palms could find their way around a nice, toasty mug.

The train was decorated in a similar way that the room was. Minimal and as non-theistic as possible. Out here it was snowmen and candy-canes that lined the curtains, and a few garlands that flickered gold and silver as the light shifted across the tinsel.

He nearly runs into someone standing up from a table, with how infatuated he is by it, and they both mumble polite excuses as they slide past. He ducks his head, embarrassed, and hurries down to the food cart.

 

xoxo

 

Shiro finishes his drink before he makes it back to Hunk. Even sports half a whipped-cream moustache that he’s in the process of licking off when he opens the door.

Hunk is huddled under a sheet on the floor, curled up near the bed. Sappy music plays from his tinny phone speakers, clipped under the sound of the train jetting itself to their destination. Shiro recognizes it easily as a song from their wedding.

He sets the untouched drink on the table, carefully in the center just in case, and lifts the sheet to peek at Hunk. “Guess who.”

“Santa!” Hunk grins, mouth half-curved up as it does when he gets really tickled but is holding in his laugh. “C’mere.”

Shiro obediently slides under to join him, squeezing himself in the empty corner between Hunk and the wall like a penguin waddling close to the pack for warmth. It’s a tight fit, and he ends up mostly in Hunk’s lap but neither of them minds the position.

The top of his head ends up poking out of the sheet, so Hunk tucks it around their shoulders instead. Outside, snowflakes crowd the edges of the windows until the entire world outside, fast-moving and blurred, looks like a faint fairytale gone softer than soft.

On the screen, shaky footage captures Hunk being twirled around the dancefloor, all nerves and smiles. He glances down at his feet more often than not, even though he knew all the steps by heart with how often he’d practiced. His hair is slicked back, a rare style, and he has a twinkle in his eye as he squeezes his palm against Shiro’s hip and pecks their lips together.

Shiro remembers exactly how Hunk’s hand had strayed lower, then, and given him a firm squeeze on the ass, but the video didn’t seem to be angled right to have caught it. He nudges Hunk anyway, who responds with a smug, pleased kiss to the curve of his jaw.

The video fades off to another, where they’ve shifted to a slower waltz-like sway, and Shiro relaxes further into Hunk’s soft warmth as they whisper sweet somethings to one another in the video. It’s gotten significantly smoother, there, as if the camera had been set on a tripod, or on a table, and Shiro is thankful for that if only because he gets to see so clearly how Hunk buries his face against Shiro’s neck when he says something too schmoopy, hugging him close.

“I didn’t realize you still had these on your phone.” Shiro hums, as Hunk turns the volume down when people start to talk over the music.

Hunk slides his phone onto the bed, under the pillow so it won’t get lost under the sheet, and returns his full attention to Shiro in the form of both arms circling his waist. “It calms me down.” He admits, quietly proud. “You made me feel safe, when we were dancing back then. Like even if I messed up and tripped all over myself, you wouldn’t let me fall down.”

“Of course I wouldn’t have. You didn’t have anything to worry about, anyway— you were better at it than me, once you got comfortable.”

“Mm.” Hunk hums, more content with kissing along Shiro’s cheek, trailing up to the temple and back down again, towards his neck.

Shiro briefly allows himself to arch into it, twisting his hips to press both palms against Hunk’s shoulder. When he gets a good grip, he tilts Hunk back to kiss him fully, lips brushing together playfully at first.

The carts don’t lurch, per se, but they do jiggle ominously as Shiro pulls back, but Hunk seems significantly calmer now that he’s had a chance to feel the place out.

Shiro gestures to the table. “Brought you something.”

“You’re an angel.” Hunk sighs, making grabby hands as Shiro reaches over to pluck the mug off the table.

He steals a sip, first, even if he’s already full up on cocoa. Hunk steals it back— or atleast the remnants of the taste of it— with one last, quick kiss.

Shiro watches him enjoy the drink, crossing his arms to lean against the mattress. He watches the steam billow up like warm clouds, wafting the gentle smell of peppermint and melted chocolate through the cabin.

It warms him just looking at it, but that may have to do with Hunk being Hunk. He’d shed his jacket, probably when he’d hidden himself under a sheet like a ghost, and Shiro was getting an eyeful of his bare arms. A view he always loved, especially when it was coupled with that vest that Hunk liked to wear around the holidays. It was decorated with penguins on each front panel— two large ones wearing Christmas hats with candy canes stuck on their beaks— and Hunk had paired the red and gold thing with a black undershirt to tie it together.

Shiro remembers going to pick it up as a gag gift, years ago, but Hunk legitimately had loved it so much that his actual gift— a new knife set to go with the sharpener he’d impulsively bought months ago— got left near forgotten. It leaves him soft like molten marshmallow to know that Hunk liked to wear it as much as Shiro liked seeing him in it.

And leaves him warm. Right in his gut. He cups a hand against the curve of arm-muscle to tug Hunk closer, and Hunk ends up setting the drink down to get them situated on the bed.

Shiro soon finds himself cuddled between Hunk and a couple of pillows cushioned against the wall, buried snugly against the soft knitted penguins he’d been admiring earlier (and definitely not the chest they were pressed against, no sir).

Hunk takes a sip of his cocoa, and Shiro passes his cool fingertips across Hunk’s pec. Right across a nipple. If Hunk’s interest is piqued by it, he doesn’t say anything.

“We should head down and get something to eat.” Shiro says, instead. “You’ll calm down on a full stomach.”

“I’m sure Lance and Pidge beg to differ.” Hunk laughs, soft against the rim of his mug. “But I could eat. Figure out if they’re cooking anything good tonight?”

Shiro leans back, easing into the cushion that was his husband even if they were about to get up again shortly. “Smelled lots of steak. A couple of grilled fish dishes, I think? Someone mentioned lamb.”

“I love lamb.” Hunk moans, already tasting it in his mind. “Think they have good chefs?”

“None better than you.” Shiro shoots back, by habit.

 

xoxo

 

And soon, they find themselves on the dining car. The deal they’d gotten had a ‘meal-included’ deal, and it was late enough that they hardly needed to wait for a table. Rather, they’d boarded late enough in the day that most people had immediately gone to sleep in their cabins.

Which meant they, more or less, had the entire place to themselves. Hunk orders the lamb, of course, even before Shiro can suggest a light appetizer. Shiro, as much as he’d influenced Hunk to come, never really got hungry on moving vehicles.

Excluding spaceships. And Lions. And whatever the Atlas counted as.

Instead, he nibbles from the breadbasket and orders a champagne to sip on.

“If you were just looking for something to do, we could’ve played a game, babe.” Hunk whines at him, as soon as the waiter leaves.

Shiro only innocently flutters his lashes, pressing their hands together atop the table. Like this, he’s able to trace the shape of Hunk’s wedding ring, side to side until it slides smoothly against his skin. “I like watching you enjoy yourself.”

Hunk pulls away only to capture Shiro’s hand fully, pressing his fingers in the spaces between. “We should ride trains more often.”

Shiro snorts, quickly hiding it as a cough as the waiter comes back with his champagne. He lifts the flute in thanks as they leave, and quickly takes a sip as Hunk stares at him with a dopey smile.

“What happened to being nervous?”

“You calmed me down. Maybe too much.” Hunk says, haughty like a spoiled cat. “You only have yourself to blame.”

Shiro feels himself beaming like an idiot at the tone. Hunk has his chin jutted up, just to commit to the bit, and he’s only just started to pull his hands away to cross his arms, too, when Shiro asks, “Will you marry me?”

Hunk freezes, eyes wide.

The moment catches up to him when Shiro sits up straighter, grin growing impossibly wider. Hunk shoves his red face against the palm of his hand to hide it. “We’re already married.”

The lamp is passed between them, to the space cleared near the wall so that Hunk, in his embarrassed fit, won’t accidentally knock it off the table.

Shiro nods in thanks to the waiter again, completely straight faced as he pretends he isn’t starting a game of footsie beneath the table cloth. When the coast clears, and they’re left to the lowlight of the train, he clicks their rings together. “We sure are.”

Hunk doesn’t even look at the plate. He peeks at Shiro from between his fingers, shy like a four-leaf clover and simmering like a pot of porridge. “I would’ve said yes.”

He has that smile on his face again, as if it really tickles his funny bone that he would’ve. He lifts their hands to pass his lips across Shiro’s knuckles, eyes fluttering shut.

 

xoxo

 

The lamb tasted amazing, Shiro can say after stealing half of it from Hunk’s plate. 

When they get back to their room, Hunk circles his arms around Shiro’s waist and pulls him close. He’s gotten taller over the years— not obscenely so, but just enough that He’s undoubtedly the taller of the two now.

Which makes it perfectly easy for him to rest his cheek against the curve of Shiro’s skull, rocking them gentle along with the sway of the train. Shiro murmurs something under his breath, a half-formed question, but ultimately lets it shudder off into nothing more than a content sigh.

His head tips back, and Hunk takes advantage to press a kiss against the parting of Shiro’s lips.

“You’re so relaxed.” Is whispered against his ear, as the kisses travel that way next. “It’s a good look on you.”

Shiro shifts, but doesn’t pull away. His fingers hook against Hunk’s bicep, where it’s holding him snug around the ribs. “So you say. I don’t think being a relaxed Captain would work well.”

“I can think of atleast twenty-five reasons why you, of everyone, deserve to be a relaxed Captain.” Hunk argues, immediately. He squeezes tighter, and the pressure drags a pleased groan from his husband. Shiro always did love snug hugs.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Shiro says, quiet.

Hunk, though, was not finished.

“No one works as hard as you. At anything.” Hunk kisses his temple. “You’re the strongest, bravest person I know.”

Before Shiro can interrupt or refute, Hunk dips his fingers along the planes of Shiro’s stomach. He’s not gotten soft, really, but he’s come far from the all-muscle-and-bone paladin that he used to be. Hunk always did like to feel along the plush, press against the firm.

“Also the prettiest. You deserve pampering.”

Shiro’s chest pauses as he holds his breath when Hunk lets his fingers briefly drip lower, like water sluicing across a window-pane. They pass down his waistband, past the bare arc of his hip.

His other hand, half forgotten where it rests above Shiro’s heart, squeezes down on his pec. Shiro is red in the face, hands awkwardly hovering just above where Hunk was petting him as if he didn’t know what to do.

Which _really_ made Hunk giddy. Shiro was about as seductive as anyone could get— an absolute menace when he wanted to be— so for Hunk to be able to have him fall apart so easily in his hands had him rightfully smug.

Shiro was starting to get flustered, though, so he cut off there. Even married, Shiro was still shy about compliments.

Hunk pulls his hand back, the one that had started to get comfortable between Shiro’s legs, and tilts Shiro’s head back to kiss him on more time. Shiro melts into the touch, probably would swoon if not for how steady Hunk kept him with the arm around his chest.

It takes him a moment to come back to himself after Hunk pulls away, but Hunk was patient. Gives him more time to appreciate the view.

He was still blushing around the fringes, and his scar was a pretty pink. It took a surprising amount of self-control not to kiss it until Shiro scrunched up his nose like he always did, turning his head away to hide his crooked, dorky smile.

It was all about not overwhelming him too much at once, so Hunk resists.

When Shiro’s eyes flutter open again, half-lidded in a daze, Hunk pulls back. “Guess we should get comfortable.”

His eyes widen, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. Really, he was completely transparent, and Hunk was smitten with it.

He urges Shiro forward, palm to palm and fingers tangled. Hunk sits first, on the edge of the bed, and Shiro climbs atop him. His hips squeeze down against Hunk’s thighs as he settles, framing Hunk in shadows as he shifts up higher.

Shiro’s jacket, the long overcoat that Shiro had admitted to buying just because it made him feel like a detective, is soon shed and tossed over the headboard, Hunk keeping him stable with two palms pressed against the waist.  

Shiro fingers at his tie, catching at the knot but not pulling to release it. “You know… I’ve never had sex in a train before.”

Hunk snorts— he can’t help it. Shiro smiles, head ducking down, but Hunk ushers him back with an affirmative hum. “Yeah? What’re we gonna do about that?”

Shiro presses him back by the shoulder, until he’s flat against the bed. He stays straddling Hunk’s lower half, spreading himself wider to press them flush together.  

His palm drags heavy across Hunk’s chest, snapping the buttons dangerously far. When he rocks forward, a jolt of pleasure that rattles through Hunk from where they’re pressed groin to groin.

“We’re not leaving this room for the rest of this trip.” Shiro orders.

Hunk traces along the soft fuzz of Shiro’s undercut, fingers brushing across the back of his neck. He sits up on one elbow to motion Shiro closer, but it’s Shiro that leads the kiss this time. It’s more breathless laughs than anything, but it’s perfect in every way.

When Shiro pulls away, he’s got that cheeky, spoiled shine in his eye. And who is Hunk to argue against that?

**Author's Note:**

> hope this was a good one!!! i really enjoyed these holiday dorks
> 
> also if anything about the train is wrong..... dont @ me..... i've never been on a train
> 
> make sure you guys go check out boss's tumblr @[bosstoaster](http://bosstoaster.tumblr.com/)!!


End file.
